A Story of Surrender

A few weeks ago, I was challenged by my church to post a testimony of who God has been in our lives.  I posted a brief description of my experience and the presence of God through loss, sickness, and uncertainty.  Since that post I have been thinking and praying about my entire story.  Contemplating whether to open that window into my past experiences and wondering if there is a point to share it even further.  Well, God has heavily laid it on my heart to put it out there.  I don’t know why and I’m feeling a bit uneasy about it, but the flood of words seem unstoppable.  So here it goes….

When Daniel and I first decided to start trying for a baby, I went all in.  Taking my temperature every morning, timing things “perfectly”, and taking complete control of the planning.  I was impatient and depressed as each month passed and I received that heart dropping negative sign.  After a few months, I finally got the plus sign!! I thanked God for giving me what “I” wanted and began the planning.  Room color, bedding, daycares, all the fun things I couldn’t wait to get ordered.  I was careful not to share the news with many people just in case.  In hindsight, this surprises me.  I was so excited yet able to keep it on the down low.  I remember hitting the 12-week mark.  I guess I should tell people now?? I still had extreme morning (or all day) sickness, so I didn’t really feel like I hit the safety zone just yet.  But still, I began to spread the news.  I shared my due month with a co-worker, so I thought it would be cool to have the experience with her.  It was her second child, so I was sure she would have lots of insights to any weird questions I may have.  At 14 weeks, I started to show.  The nice little bloat started poking out and it was harder to button my pants.  I was in the uncomfortable stage where people would wonder…. pregnant? or weight gain? But never ask.  On a Friday morning, I started to spot.  Most of the time, that’s totally normal.  I franticly ran to my coworker’s office to see what she thought.  Definitely call the doctor, she advised.  They got me in immediately and did a quick in the office ultra sound with the Dr.  Everything looked fine she said.  Strong heartbeat, but let’s see if I can get you in for a “big” ultrasound just in case.  Spotting can be completely normal she stated as she handed me the print out picture of my baby. The ultrasound tech will print out some better pictures for you, the Dr. informed me.  Sweet!

Daniel and I studied the picture as we drove to our ultrasound appointment.  He/She looked kind of like a frog I thought.  I wonder if she will be able to tell the sex today?  We went into the appointment not missing a beat.  She looked around and determined that the spotting was nothing.  She continued to look around for about 10 more minutes not saying much.  I remember thinking she didn’t have much personality.  She finished her examination and said she would send everything right over to my Dr.  It wasn’t until I left the room that I realized she didn’t give us any pictures.  Bummer.

I called my sister and let her know that the spotting was no big deal.  Just then the Dr. beeped in and asked us to come by her office.  I flipped back over to my sister and let her know that I wasn’t worried.  I am sure everything is fine.  When I got back to the Dr.’s office, no one was there and they were just about to lock up. I told Daniel to wait in the car (I’m sure it’s no big deal) and I went right back.  I walked in and the Dr. said that she wished my husband was still with me.  This was the very moment I got worried.  Daniel entered the room and we both sat uncomfortably anticipating what she was about to tell us.  Our baby has anencephaly she shared and asked if we knew what that meant.  Because I am so smart J I knew that “cephal” referred to the head.  That couldn’t be good.  The brief description is that the baby doesn’t grow a skull above the eyebrows and only develops ½ of a brain.  It’s a neural tube defect.  Its terminal. 

We set an appointment with a specialist for confirmation and she warned me not to google it.  Although I didn’t follow her advice, I offer the same warning to you.  Google includes images that you can never forget. 

I went back to work and on with my daily life hiding a secret and waiting for the confirmation that my first child will not survive. 

Let me stop here and point out the presence of God in this very hopeless situation.  The spotting had nothing to do with the diagnosis.  It was completely random.  Or so I thought.  Without the spotting, we would not have known.  God was ready for me to know.  It was His timing.  His plan.

At 16 weeks, I delivered our first born son.  While going through labor the nurse warned me that “it” would be very small.  Thanks for the warning, but can you now go take a sensitivity class??? Calling my baby an “it” is not exactly supportive.  I gave my family strict instructions to not visit me in the hospital.  I didn’t want to be plagued with small talk to mask the reality of what I was experiencing.  I prayed A LOT during those 48 hours.  But to be completely honest…..I prayed with MY agenda and I was still pretty mad.  I prayed for my baby, I prayed for my husband and I, but behind those prayers was anger.  I wouldn’t admit it, but it was there.  Ill spare you the details, but my first child was born and died on September 11^th.  4 days after my 30^th birthday.  He had several unrelated challenges that I will spare you with as well.  Bottom line he was never intended for this earth, but he was planned for me.  The pregnancy, the diagnosis, the experience was not random.  It wasn’t bad luck.  It was God’s plan.  I didn’t want to see it at the time, but I still had much more to go through. 

**The next part may get a little graphic…..you have been warned**

I went home and after a few days went back to work.  My coworkers were amazing and had been praying hard for me through the process.  I stepped into my office and immediately saw my coworker, the one I shared the due month with.  She was showing……I smiled, then slipped into the bathroom and cried.  Heartbroken, angry, confused, tired, and feeling alone. 

The next couple of weeks I continued to bleed.  The Google Drs said that was normal after birth.  I felt like my bleeding was little excessive, but how was I to know what was normal.  I couldn’t really ask friends, well, because that’s weird.  They had a baby…….I didn’t .  When I did muster up the courage to ask, they didn’t remember.  I was too busy taking care of the baby they would say.  The feeling of isolation was paralyzing.  I couldn’t even pray through it.  It was too consuming.  I guess maybe because I wasn’t nursing my newborn, I must be focusing on the bleeding too much.  I’m sure its fine. 

Well, then I began to lose the color in my face and started vomiting.  Maybe that’s not normal.  Daniel pretty much thought I was at death's door.  I must have really looked good.  I finally went to the Dr.  The results?  Immediate blood transfusion and surgery. 

I went back to work and tried to continue on with life.  I was still bleeding.  Normal after surgery right?  I often wonder why I wasn’t more vocal about my symptoms.  But the isolation really kept me frozen.  It was just so hard to explain.  Do you have a baby? No.  Did you have a miscarriage?  No.  Well, it has to be one or the other?  But it wasn’t. 

Finally, the bleeding just got out of control and it wasn’t stopping.  I was forced to call the Dr.  All of the staff was at lunch.  The receptionist asked me if I had filled a pad within an hour.  Um, yes, I filled a pad in 3 minutes and I am now filling a bathtub.  She seemed alarmed, but everyone was still at lunch.  Well, that doesn’t help me.  I called Daniel and thought I should probably go to the ER at this point.  By the time he arrived I couldn’t walk.  I was too weak and the bathroom looked like a murder scene.  (I warned you).

More transfusions and another surgery. 

This time I didn’t leave the hospital.  That was probably a good idea.  So where was God through all of this.  He was there.  I just wasn’t paying much attention, you know, since I was clearly doing all the right things.

The 6^th day of my hospital stay is truly the pivotal part of my story.  It’s the part that I referred to most in my previous FB post.  The night before my final surgery.  The Dr informed me that there was a 50/50 shot that she would have to remove my uterus.  If she couldn’t find a way to stop the bleeding, she would have to just take it all out.  The scans showed that my blood vessels were just continuing to pour blood, but it didn’t show why. 

At this point, my anger, depression, hopelessness, fear, and everything else hit its highest point.  This was not happening, seriously, it’s not happening.  I was trying to gain some type of control in this out of control situation.  Not once did I consider giving the control to God.  Instead I started making a plan B, researching adoption. 

A friend stoped by for a visit.  I gave her an update and I was pretty much emotionless at that point.  I was preoccupied, I needed to get started on my plan B.  She sat comfortably and began to speak truth to me.  Encouraging me to seek God.  I rolled my eyes (only in my mind of course).  I am a Christian.  I know the drill.  I pray.  I’ve asked God to protect me.  I get it.  Then she started talking about full surrender.  Giving up what we envisioned and had planned for our life and turning that over completely to God.  Ummmm….is she serious right now?? Hello!?! I have a Masters in Child Development, kids are what I do!  It’s pretty much the only area in life that I feel kind of smart.  It is absolutely impossible for me to say I am okay with not having kids.  If that is God’s plan for MY life, then screw Him I will find my own way.

 I know that sounds really harsh to say.  It hurt my heart to type.  But its real.  I thought it.  I wasn’t brave enough to put a voice behind those exact words, but I said them inside.  I was ticked off. 

She left and I continued my research on adoption.  I needed to be prepared just in case.  I settled down for the night with the anticipation of surgery overwhelming me.  I began to pray.  My obvious prayer.  I prayed for protection, the Drs., my family, and that everything would go well and I would go on to live my happy life as a mother.  But I couldn’t say Amen.  I couldn’t end the prayer.  Reluctedly, I started to pray for surrender.  I kept praying and the words started to come easier.  Hours went by and I still prayed.  At 12:07, I felt the presence of God.  The kind that is undeniable.  The kind that if I would have opened my eyes, I would swear I could see him on my bedside.  I surrendered and I felt like my lungs filled with air.  It was the first full breath I had taken in a long time.  I fell asleep knowing that God’s plan for my life is bigger than my own.  Knowing that God’s plan may include children and it may not.  I was okay with that.  It’s weird to say that even now.  But I was truly okay with that.

The next morning the surgery happened.  It was pretty lengthy and it involved a lot of blood being transfused, but we got through it.  I woke up in recovery on a lot of drugs yelling “Can someone tell me if I have a uterus”.  Comical now, but super intense then.  They confirmed that everything went well.  She stopped the bleeding and everything was fine.  At that point, I still didn’t know if God had children in my future plans.  However, the fear of that plan was gone.  I whole heartedly trusted God’s plan.  I just wanted to go home………and eat.

For inquiring minds, the cause of all this trouble was called placenta accreta.  Basically a piece of my placenta from my baby planted too firmly on my uterus and tore apart during birth.  My body thought I was still pregnant therefore continued to supply blood.  The chances of me having a baby with anencephaly AND placenta accreta was pretty unheard of.  But what can I say.  I like to be different.

Looking back, I can honestly say that this was one of my favorite experiences of my 36 years.  I got to experience the presence of God like I had never allowed myself to feel before.  It took this tragedy to deliver me from fear.  Do you ever feel that? Fear of God’s plan? Fear that His plan is not going to be what you want? Fear that His plan may challenge you? It may be hard? It may be uncomfortable? It may force you to give up things that you think are absolutely impossible?

I don’t have that fear anymore.  There are certainly things that I still struggle with, but fear of His plan is not one of them.  Without this experience, I’m not sure I would have gotten to this place. 

I had two precious babies after this experience.  I had my challenges with those pregnancies as well.  But I was never really scared.  Concerned yes, as all parents are.  But inside, I truly knew that God would lead me down whatever path He has prepared for me. 

Fortunately, we don’t all have to face challenges in life to get to this point.  I am just stubborn.  God reminds us that He is here in every breath we take.  It is up to us as to when we give everything we have back to Him.  To give Him all of our trust, all of heart, our fears, our joys, everything. 

People sometimes wonder if you’re different after you become  a Christian.  I’ve been a Christian for a long time.  I accepted Christ as my Savior at 10 years old (I even wrote a song about it, but that’s for another blog..ha!).  I knew Him and had a personal relationship with Him.  I sought Him out and asked His direction, but I wasn’t different enough.  Different is full surrender.  Different is what happened in the middle of the night after hours of prayer.  Different is who I am today.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.” Provides 3: 5-6